


Just Married

by mcrningstar



Category: Blindspot (TV)
Genre: Fake Marriage, Idiots in Love, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Post-Episode: S04E13, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-10-29 22:58:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17817146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcrningstar/pseuds/mcrningstar
Summary: The last thing Boston wants from his new job as an consultant for the FBI is to end up undercover with Rich, pretending to be a married couple for the sake of justice, but sometimes things don't go the way you'd want them to, do they?





	Just Married

**Author's Note:**

> No one will be able to convince me that this isn't one of the most underrated ships out there, there isn't even a tag for them???? (As far as I could tell, but I'd be happy to be corrected!) But they are gold in every way and as much as I love Blindspot, they aren't taking full advantage of their potential so obviously, the reasonable option for me is to write all these totally possible scenarios. Not to mention, I love the fake dating trope and Rich and Boston are already acting like an old married couple, so you know.
> 
> This takes place after 4x12, there aren't that many major spoilers (but some possibly) but it just ties nicely into the plot. Watch out if you're not all caught up, though. If you're not, man, you're missing out on some good stuff! Anyway, I love these two dorks and here's hoping someone else does too, enjoy reading! xx

**HAD YOU TOLD** Rich Dotcom a decade ago that soon enough, he'd find himself lending his particularly impressive hacking skills and vast knowledge of the criminal underworld to the FBI, he would have undoubtedly laughed at you. _Him_ , working with law enforcement? _Please_. Not to mention, working side by side with the one man who always got under his skin, no matter how much he insisted on being untouchable — well, actually, given their partners-in-crime history, teaming up with Boston Arliss Crab wasn't such a distant idea to Rich, maybe more of a fantasy, actually. But here they were, both of them swaying away from their illegal methods and cooperating with the very people they were used to being on the run from.

"Just to be clear, I still don't know how to feel about... _this_ ", Rich inhaled with a doubtful voice as he gestured at Boston with one hand, while the other balanced a hot cup of coffee with his name spelled wrong on it. The two were standing all by themselves in the elevator, no one and nothing else but a heavy tension lingering in the quiet air he had bravely disrupted. Only then, Boston's doe eyes darted to Rich from the other side of the elevator, skipping past the distance they had deliberately created between one another, one eyebrow quirking in amusement and, in some wicked ways, satisfaction. But Rich didn't doubt that — of course, he would enjoy taking away the one thing that made him feel special, the one thing that he had been looming over his head for months now. _I'm part of the FBI, Boston. You're on house arrest, Boston. Who's the better hacker now, Boston?_

"Oh, trust me, this isn't how I want to start my morning either", Boston commented with a snort while wagging his finger between them, "but I am glad these people finally came to their senses. I mean, why have just you when they could have all this talent? I think I really bring something special to the team", a deep, admiring sigh slipping from his mouth as he pursed his lips in an innocent smile as if he wasn't purposefully choosing his words to twist the knife even deeper. 

As the elevator pinged as a sign of arrival, and the metal doors parted only to reveal a busy floor of FBI agents pouncing from one side of the room to the other, Boston deepened his smile until it shifted from faux-innocent to full-on bitchy. "Have a good day at work, sweetie", he pronounced as sarcastically as possible before giving Rich a bold wink and then stepping out of the elevator, leaving the other consultant silently mouthing his words in mockery while rolling his eyes. 

To be fair, neither of them were _actually_ hating this arrangement. In fact, when Reade had informed Boston that whenever he'd be up for it, he could have a place at the FBI, Rich's heart had leaped with enthusiasm and Boston's eyes had involuntarily glanced at his way. No doubt, he was the most ecstatic about his house arrest being lifted and being offered to put his passion to good use — other than painting, of course — but working with Rich didn't sound like a bad bonus, at all. Maybe on the outside, they were constantly sassy and jabbing at each other, but inside, they were both almost relieved to be in physical proximity again, like good old times.

The only difference was that instead of working against the law, they were now the ones enforcing it.

Despite parting ways merely seconds ago, the two men were reunited in Patterson's lab, where the rest of the team already stood, gathered and quick to glare daggers at Rich. "We've been waiting for you", Reade was the one to say what everyone was thinking, and already sighing in exasperation, Rich opened his mouth and threw his free hand out, though remained silent as everyone turned back to the table — except for Boston, who didn't hesitate to give him a taunting smirk. "Okay, Patterson, do your thing", the Assistant Director gave the blonde the go-ahead while Rich clenched his jaw and joined the others by the table, consisting of only half the team, considering that Zapata was still M.I.A and Weller and Jane were nowhere to be seen. 

"Um, excuse me, since when is it _her_ thing? I thought we were kind of a dynamic duo at this point. Also, where is Jeller?" the hacker fired a bunch of questions while finishing his coffee and then launching it into the nearby trash bin before licking his lips and turning back to the team with an expectant look. Clearly frustrated about being interrupted, Patterson shot him a look, but instead of taking the hint and shutting up, Rich urged them on with a vigorous nod and a rolling movement of his hand.

"Kurt and Jane are taking a few well-deserved vacation days so Jane can recover in peace. And it's Patterson's thing since day one, and she's the one who figured out a new tattoo for us to solve, so...", Reade elaborated and then gestured at the woman as if to ask Rich if she could tell them the news now, and in defeat, he didn't argue anymore — maybe he was bound to settle for this lesser role, being shoved to the sidelines on the daily now.

Finally allowed to proceed in peace, Patterson cleared her throat. "So, _we_ 've been looking at this tattoo for a while now, but it seemed like a dead end until today", she explained, a glance given to Rich to credit him for the original process. "This guy, Theodore Langdon has been scamming people for years. He owns a company, pretty small-time and off-radar, but there are multiple news articles, bank accounts, and other digital trails to connect him to illegal arms deals. Basically, he throws fundraisers and scams money from actual good causes like cancer treatment, or—or assault victims or pro-LGBTQ+ organizations to buy weapons and store them until he needs them. No doubt he's planning some kind of attack soon enough", Patterson ranted with a critical tone, pulling up files on the big screen to back up her points — she would have preferred being wrong on this, though, but she was right: the guy was a huge scumbag with a knack for illegal activities.

"So he's a grade A jerk. Great. What's the plan?" Boston grimaced at the photo of his face — surprisingly, a middle-aged white man with a face devoid of smiles and sympathy, dressed in a suit and his graying hair slicked back with gel so strong they could almost smell it through the picture. Nodding in agreement, Rich eyed the photo with judgmental eyes — there was so much cool stuff to break the law for, but stealing from the less fortunate for the sake of some explosives didn't qualify as such. Well, to some extent, he figured the explosives were cool too, but the less unfortunate part, not so much.

"We can't bring him in without some solid proof, so the plan is to go into one of these fundraisers, gather some intel. If these parties are thrown at one of his own locations—", Reade started to plot, and when Patterson nodded to confirm that Langdon's festivities were usually at his mansion or beach house, he repeated the action, "then there's probably some technology behind locked doors. Hacking into his laptop shouldn't be a problem."

"Not at all", both Rich and Boston spoke at the same time, confident in their own abilities but quick to stare at each other with venom — undoubtedly, sharing a workplace was going to spark some competition between the two, but Jane had pointed out that maybe, in the end, it would just get them to work harder. 

Tapping away on her screen, Patterson hummed softly. "The next fundraiser happens to be tonight. 8 PM at his mansion", she announced with a thoughtful tone, eyes wandering back to Reade who gave her an approving, firm nod and then turned to the two other men around the table.

"Great. Get us in, Rich and Boston will go together", he ordered, though what he tried to make a brief exit was cut off by both of the consultants leaping after him with a choir of _woah, woah, woah_ s. 

"Um, why? I mean, I get why you'd put me up to such a demanding task, but why do I have to go with Rich? I can handle it on my own, I'm sure", Boston laughed nervously, clearly not in the mood to be paired off with his ex-boyfriend, whereas Rich was starting to find amusement in the situation — seeing the man squirm and complain about their newfound situation was quite fulfilling, making him chuckle as he nudged Boston with his elbow.

"Sneaky, Bos-Bos. Come on, you're lucking out here. If anything, _I_ should be upset about having to go with a buzzkill like you", he argued back while motioning at himself, earning a cringe from Boston, who was quick to fight on the last part by lifting a finger and waving it right in Rich's face.

"I'm _not_ a buzzkill! But if the company happens to be dreadful, God forbid I roll my eyes once or twice", he scoffed dryly as his arms crossed across his chest, and already laughing victoriously, Rich mimicked his stance before Reade could get a word in to stop the two from digging deeper.

"Oh, okay, yeah, sure. What about that time in—", Rich began, but he didn't get any further when Boston interjected with a sharp wave of his hand.

"I _swear_ , Rich, if you bring up Stockholm again. I mean, honestly", he barked out with an incredulous tone, officially turning over to Reade as he knitted his eyebrows together, "you stop your boyfriend from snorting a bucket of cocaine once and suddenly you're dubbed as _the buzzkill!"_

Before either of them could bring up another argument or defend their own actions, Reade was stepping between the two, literally, and directing solemn looks at both of them. "Tough luck. Facts are, it's good to have back-up and you're our best play when it comes to hacking. Whether you like it or not, you know each other and that's an advantage when going to a place like this. Me and Patterson will stay here, and you two will go undercover, get inside his laptop and send us anything incriminating. Right now, you need each other, and this is the job you wanted, and sometimes it includes working with people you don't want to", he made the final call, dead-serious as he eventually turned on his heel and strutted out of the lab only for an uncomfortable silence to descend in his place.

And he was right, too — maybe it wasn't what Boston and Rich wanted, but they were going to have to work the case together. Or maybe, they did want it and that was exactly the problem; knowing just how well they could cooperate if they just so desired, and missing that feeling.

—————

**"YOU DO REALIZE** you're not supposed to draw too much attention to yourselves?" Patterson's voice was delightfully filled with wonder and skepticism as she inspected the shiny, maroon suit that Rich was donning while checking his hair in the mirror — or, so he insisted but Patterson could have sworn he had put on some eyeliner, too. "You're like a walking target", she muttered under her breath, but it hadn't been quiet enough to fly under the radar, and in doing so, she received a glare from Rich who snapped his hand-held mirror shut and snuck it into his pocket. 

"Ha-ha. Just wait until Boston shows up. I wouldn't put a rainbow-colored suit past him. Also, where is he? I thought his resumé had _always impeccably punctual_ on it", the Dotcom criticized, trying to drain his voice of any affection, but no matter how well he thought he succeeded, Patterson wound up smiling to herself while noticing the nervous fidgeting Rich still remained oblivious to. Maybe he hadn't noticed it himself, but he was definitely forgetting how to keep his personal life outside his job because there was no way that going undercover was the reason behind his abnormally sweaty palms. As someone who had been on both ends of a gun, he wasn't easily alarmed by the dangers of his job anymore — depending on the danger, of course — but the deep waters he had sunken into with Boston were a whole other threat.

"Right, I'm sure you just _hate_ this", Patterson didn't bother to hide the sing-song tone, causing Rich's eyes to snap from the people around them to the woman with his eyebrows meeting in the middle.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He had barely gotten the doubtful question in the air when Patterson feigned innocence and simply nodded towards Boston, who, at last, was emerging from Reade's office. Choosing to ignore Patterson's comment — for now — Rich turned back to the right direction, only for an invisible fist to land in his stomach and gut him of breath, leaving him with a lump in his throat and an iron grip around his heart as Boston, by no means in a rainbow suit, but a black, sleek one, approached the two while buttoning his jacket. As if that wasn't perfect enough, his tie just happened to be the same shade as Rich's suit, earning a roll of eyes from the man.

It had only been half-planned.

"Oh, great", Boston whispered while straightening out his sleeves, and merely breathing out a weak laugh, Rich forgot every word in the English language as he looked at the taller man with such adoration, for a second he worried his eyes might have turned into actual hearts. But, even if he wasn't as good as keeping it under wraps, the feeling was mutual — the sight of him was tugging on Boston's heartstrings too, and for a moment there, he even found himself thinking back to all the dates they had been to together, all the romantic, flamboyant gestures Rich had put the effort in just for him. And how maybe just a fraction of him was disappointed that it wasn't the case right now.

"Ah, it's perfect. And now, before I forget... _These_ should make it even more perfect", Patterson grinned, definitely enjoying the awkwardness between the men as she pulled out a small, black box and snapped it open, revealing a pair of glimmering, silver rings. Instantly, Rich and Boston exchanged looks, but instead of protesting, they sighed simultaneously and each grabbed a ring to slip on their finger.

"This reminds me — didn't I once say that it was just a matter of time?" Rich taunted with a full-blown grin, turning his hand in all possible directions to gander at the fake wedding ring, while Boston tried to secretly do the same — he couldn't deny that it didn't look half-bad on him. Or Rich.

_"This",_ Boston emphasized while lifting his own finger, "doesn't count." 

Clapping her hands together, then, Patterson nodded towards the elevator. "Okay, have fun! I'll be right here for when you have something for me. Remember, you're married now, so you better sell that story", she insisted defiantly, and already gulping, Boston flashed a convincing smile despite his thoughts running a million miles per hour.

Sure, how hard could that be?

The car drive to the party was an unbearably quiet one, with both of them undeniably thinking about the upcoming hours they'd have to spend, side by side, arms looped and eyes only for each other. The last part wasn't so far from reality, and perhaps that intimidated them the most — that they'd make this far too realistic, fall in too deep until they'd be unable to climb out. Truthfully, they weren't sure yet if this was a blessing or a curse, but there was no denying the erratic heart rates in the back of the car when they finally pulled up by the fancy mansion, lit up with multiple lights and adorned with balloons and decorations with people continuously flowing through the entrance. 

Clearly, they had arrived at a huge event, and that, ultimately, reminded them of the important work they were doing — taking down a scumbag and potentially saving lives in the process.

"Hey, you okay?" Rich's voice rang through the darkening night, and startled out of his thoughts, Boston instinctively looked up to the source of the sound only to realize that he was still sitting in the car, his door opened and Rich standing by his side with an extended hand for him to take. 

"Huh? Oh, yeah, pfft, never been better", he saved himself from any follow-up questions, although his lack of talent when it came to lying hardly helped, but whether or not he could see through him, Rich, at the very least, had the courtesy of keeping his mouth shut. And even though Boston would have liked to avoid physical contact and at the same time, his feelings from rising to the surface, he figured that for the sake of all the innocent people they were there to defend, he might as well play his part with conviction — with that in mind, Boston slapped his hand onto Rich's and allowed the man to assist him out of the car. Before he could pull away, though, Rich had proceeded to offer the rest of his arm, too, and with a deep inhale, he caved in and looped his own around it.

"Okay, remember, save the ridiculing and eye-rolling for when we get out of here, alright? We're married", Rich reminded, as if either of them had been unable to move past that fact, the rings weighing on them almost obnoxiously. 

"Didn't see that coming", Boston got one last bitter remark out of his system as they climbed up the stairs of the mansion together, the brisk air around them almost nonexistent when they were so closely wound together, thigh by thigh and painfully aware of the warmth caused by the constant contact. 

Ready to disagree, Rich chuckled in the unwillingness to believe Boston's words. "Oh, _please_ , don't act like you never thought about it, too", he mentioned oh-so-casually, before abandoning the subject like he hadn't just admitted to considering _marriage_ , with _him_. Not many people could picture Rich Dotcom so committed to someone, and Boston didn't make the list either, but he couldn't say the same for himself. He wasn't opposed to a fairytale wedding, some sappy vows and a lifetime together, and just as Rich had guessed, the impossibly flawless image had crossed his mind when they had been together. But to hear that he hadn't been alone in it was deepening the pit in his stomach.

Then again, maybe he was overthinking. Maybe he had heard wrong.

"So the plan is, make some chit-chat, drink a glass of champagne or two, then try to find the bedroom", Rich continued, most of his blabbering falling to deaf ears until the final word made Boston choke on air. "Or, the office, you know, wherever he keeps his laptop", the Dotcom added urgently, the peaks of his own cheeks burning as he cleared his throat, "I mean, to find the laptop. And then, if someone catches us, I guess we go with the classic drunk-and-looking-for-a-place-to-have-sex ploy, huh?" He glanced at Boston, then, and upon noticing the wide-eyed look gracing his awfully adorable features, he broke into a devious grin. "Don't get any ideas now, Boston. I think you could use that drink, hm?"

Rolling his eyes despite Rich's previous recommendations to not do so, Boston guided a smile at the bodyguards they passed on their way inside, before turning back to his fake-husband. "That is literally the only way I'll be able to get through this night. You're already giving me a headache", he radiated sarcasm while using his free hand to pat Rich's shoulder, both of them used to this familiar routine — whenever things threatened to get too real between them, one of them said something to dissolve the tension, remind not only each other but themselves that they weren't together anymore. Even if they wished so.

The fundraiser turned out to be even fancier indoors, with an orchestra taking care of the entertainment side while people of wealth and fame gossiped around the expensive furniture, waiters wandering around the premises and even more bodyguards standing in the shadows to keep an eye on everything. Silently, both Rich and Boston counted the guards and noted all the possible exits, and afterwards, they scanned the room for their man of the hour — Theodore Langdon, who Boston located lounging by the grand stairwell in the room with a group of people around him like armor.

"Well, there's Teddy", Boston contemplated, "should we go and say something? You know, just sneaking around here might raise some suspicions, so...", a shrug lifting both his shoulders as he leaned close enough for only Rich to hear his grand plan. And already in agreement, the latter began to tug on his arm, leading Boston towards Theodore while mentally preparing himself for the countless lies about to leave his mouth without a moment's hesitation.

"Theodore Langdon!" his loud voice boomed through the mansion, completely devoid of worry as he smiled and approached the man with Boston right at his heel. Successfully, he scared everyone else away, leaving Langdon all alone as Rich reached out to give his shoulder a firm squeeze. "What a glorious fundraiser you've thrown here. I do really believe that the world needs more men like you, benevolent and willing to do what it takes to give everyone an equal chance", he pretended to speak from the heart, a vehement nod confirming his every word as Theodore continued to stare at him, evidently overwhelmed.

"Uh, why thank you. Do I know you?" the man narrowed his eyes at Rich, only for Boston to swoop in with a fond chuckle and a hand placed on Rich's arm.

"Oh, I'm sorry. This is _so_ typical of my husband, he's always shoving himself into people's faces and it's like, honey, not everyone appreciates that. But, uh, we've been reading up on all the good work you do and when we managed to get an invitation, we just had to show up. Already donated quite the generous sum for the, uh—um", Boston explained with a casual tone, only stumbling towards the end when he came to the startling realization that he was blanking on what the cause had been — sure, it was all a front for weapons of mass destruction, but he couldn't very well bring that up. 

Unsure if the two were worth his trust, Theodore lifted his chin and reviewed them with a careful eye. "Environment", he delivered a curt answer, nonetheless, making Rich erupt into a heartfelt rant about the importance of looking after the environment and taking even dire methods to ensure the safety of humanity's future. Of course, it was no lie, but everything that Teddy was spitting at their faces was, causing a borderline bitter smile on Boston's face.

"Well, we won't keep you any longer, Mr. Langdon, but can I just say, you are much appreciated. Truly. And what a lovely place you have, too. I think this is exactly the kind of vibe we're looking for, too, don't you think, sweetie?" Boston added fuel to the fire, turning to Rich with a thoughtful face, and in return, the brunette nodded with an equally pondering tone. "I'm not sure if I mentioned, but we just got married", he boldly grabbed Rich's hand and lifted it along with his own to flaunt the rings, and something utterly uncomfortable appeared on the creases of Theodore's face — undoubtedly, he was reveling in the joy of skimming money of these two unsuspecting gays. Well, one gay and one bisexual.

Man, it was going to feel good to watch him go behind bars.

"Okay, then, fellas. You grab some champagne and have a good evening", Theodore entwined his own hands and squeezed them together as a mixture of a thank you and a goodbye, and after quiet hums and nods to return the gesture, the evil mastermind was stalking away from them. They, however, chose to stare after him with displeased expressions, and after grabbing two glasses of champagne from one of the waiters passing by and offering one to Boston, Rich elected to speak up again.

" _The environment,_ my ass", Rich mimicked the Langdon's voice, earning a laugh from Boston. "Can't wait to serve him a big, fat slice of justice", he mumbled once more, partly to himself but concluding from the hand that Boston lifted to propose a fist-bump, he had been heard — and who was Rich to reject?

——————

**A WHOLE HOUR** later, the two had practically melted into the party crowd as the lovable just-married couple, not to a point where they would spark too much attention, but to the point where their presence was no longer questioned. Boston hadn't struggled to charm the people with his jokes, while Rich had made a habit of shoving their relationship in everyone's face. Eventually, the line between trying to sell the story and enjoying the ability to do so blurred out of existence, and Boston surely noticed, but couldn't say anything — he, too, had probably shared a few extra details just for the sake of doing so. Maybe, just _maybe_ they had missed each other and being together more than they were ready to admit, but they could always blame it on the champagne, should either of them later bring up the fact that the more time passed, the more willing they were to hold hands or gaze into each other's eyes.

"So, how did you two meet?" one of the older ladies in the crowd questioned curiously, surrounded by two more while Rich and Boston stood in front of them, the latter's arm casually draped over the shorter man's shoulder to keep him close. _To convince everyone else._

Drawing a sip from his second glass, Boston glanced at Rich as if to silently ask which one should come up with a story this time, but his stare hadn't even been met when Rich had shrugged and burst into a rant. "Well, you know, we happened to be studying at the same university. Boston was a total nerd, still is—", he began, earning a poke in his side, "but I was less interested in the whole studying thing. But we kind of ended up working together. I was obviously irresistible and as I'm sure you can expect, Boston fell head over heels for me. But, I mean, sure, it was mutual. And then I just kinda couldn't imagine working with anyone else so we ended up traveling together and whatnot. We parted ways eventually but I always did miss him, you know? And then when fate threw us together again, I just knew I couldn't let him go anymore."

Silence wrapped the group together, but whereas the ladies in their company were awed and enthralled by the tale Rich had been spinning, Boston was rendered speechless by the fact that it wasn't a tale, at all. Well, maybe some parts of it — those poor women didn't need to know about the less romantic parts, the hook-ups and the arguments and the crimes committed hand in hand, but in the end, it was mostly true. The previous three times, they had come up with some intricate lie about how they had fallen in love and gotten married, once in Vegas, another time on the beach, but this time, there was a scary amount of truth within the story.

"That's beautiful! You two make a very darling couple", one of the women placed a hand on her heart while praising them, and with a nervous chuckle, Boston offered her a smile of gratitude. But he couldn't quite move past the candor Rich didn't seem to regret — if anything, when he turned back to Boston with an uncharacteristically soft smile and equally gentle eyes, it was like he was trying to prove a point.

The moment felt endless, just like the gaze Boston couldn't turn away from, but eventually, Rich cleared his throat and gave a short nod towards the stairwell, now abandoned and free for them to roam. With a thick swallow, Boston collected himself and, with an apologetic smile, turned back to the women.

"Ladies, if you'll excuse us, I think we're going to look for the bathroom now", he declared whilst already steering Rich towards the stairs, and in reaction, all three women snickered to themselves, no doubt imagining much different things than they were actually intending on. But, rather than clarifying anything, they were hastily heading for the stairwell, and before anyone could stop them, they rushed upstairs while glancing around to make sure no one was catching them in the act — no one had actually forbidden entering the unexplored areas, but the fact that no one had attempted to do so signified that it was almost common knowledge. Yet, no one called or chased after them, so they didn't stop. 

Not until they reached the second floor and realized they were still holding hands, anyway.

"Aren't you being awfully clingy", Rich teased when his eyes cast down at their intertwined fingers, pulling a scoff from Boston who still made no attempt to deny the accusations. He simply remained silent and tried opening the several doors in the hallway, the first one alone giving way and allowing him to peek inside. "Well, don't keep me waiting", he heard Rich's whine from behind him as he slowly cracked the door wider, and while taking the chance to roll his eyes without being seen, he inspected the surroundings before turning back to his partner.

"It's his bedroom, I'm guessing. But there's a laptop in there, so come on", he confidently made the decision that they were going in, and without waiting for Rich's approval, Boston snuck through the doorway and began to waltz around the carpeting before making his way to the lone desk in the vicinity. 

As quietly as possible, Rich sealed the door behind them, and while Boston approached the laptop and dug out the USB drive Reade had given him, the Dotcom chose to whistle at the classy room, from the white leather couch to the huge bed, with more space than Boston's whole safe house had had. On one side of the room were massive windows, one of which turned out to be a door that led to a huge balcony overlooking the grand backyard, and on the other, several sliding doors were masked as mirrors to hide a closet.

"Man, being a bad guy sure pays well. Why did I retire, again?" Rich thought out loud, his tone suggesting that he was genuinely wondering, and it made Boston suffocate a laugh as he plugged the USB drive into the laptop and began to type his way through the passwords and encryptions.

"Maybe, because somewhere deep, deep, _deep_ down you possibly don't totally suck?" Boston suggested, before throwing a look over his shoulder to find Rich poking the soft pillows splayed across the bed. "Or because you weren't talented enough", he added teasingly, but before Rich could say anything — and he knew he definitely would — he continued, "when you're done drooling over his sheets, you mind keeping watch? Just saying, we're both screwed if we get caught."

Still refusing to not bring up Boston's outrageous claims, though, Rich approached him with a reviewing eye. "Uh, I'm definitely talented enough. Actually, you sure you can do that? I'm happy to take over—", he started boasting, but he wasn't allowed to finish when Boston had lifted a hand to stop him from getting any closer, the wedding ring gleaming under the dim lights of the room as he kept typing on one hand.

"I'm on top of this", he gritted out, and chuckling to himself, Rich gave up and walked back to the door to make sure Theodore wouldn't bring one of his lady friends to the privacy of his bedroom, but not before getting in one last comment.

"That's a first."

A few minutes went in silence, excluding Rich's spontaneous whistling of whatever song he happened to have in mind and the clack of Boston speeding across the keyboard, but finally, the Crab breathed out with relief. "This is a goldmine. But I think I got everything. Or at least, everything we need", he assured while ejecting the USB driver, and humming in satisfaction, Rich was already grabbing his phone.

"Okie dokie, I'll text Patty to let her know. Before we leave though, I gotta have some more of those crab cakes", Rich trailed off, only to snort at his own words and then look up at Boston. "New nickname alert, Crab Cakes."

Shaking his head in disbelief, Boston hid the USB in his pocket before shifting his anxious stare between the unlocked door and Rich, who was quietly muttering every word he was typing on the message. He was completely in his own bubble, yet Boston decided it was the perfect time to ask a question that had been subconsciously dancing on the tip of his tongue for some time now. "Hey, about what you said downstairs to the women—", he cleared his throat shyly, unsure how to spring the topic up on Rich, but he didn't get very far when the other man suddenly yanked his head up, but not towards Boston — instead, he stared at the door in horror, and quickly shoved his phone away.

"Someone's coming", was his short, fear-inducing announcement before he grabbed Boston's hand and dragged him to the other side of the room. With his quick thinking, he didn't hesitate to slide open the mirror-doors and step into the closet for a solid hiding place, but instead of following suit, Boston stared at him as if to question if he was truly expected to voluntarily lock himself in a confined space with Rich. But, instead of waiting for permission or taking the time to convince him, Rich simply acted, knowing that should the man be caught in Langdon's bedroom without permission, he'd suffer the consequences — that was how he justified wrapping a hand around Boston's tie and tugging him into the closet so he could slide the door closed again.

It _had_ seemed like a good idea until they wound up chest to chest in the tiny space, with the several jackets and shirts too heavy to move without making too much unnecessary noise, leaving them with no other option but to stand there, toe to toe and noses nearly touching. It didn't take long for uncomfortable heat to flood between them and their breaths to grow untamed, with both of them trying their damnest to keep their thoughts away from how close they were standing, how one right movement could have caused their lips to graze. And when the door of the bedroom then opened, Rich automatically froze while Boston scrambled to hide in further, only to press the other man into the wall and then, to avoid losing his own balance, land a hand next to his head to close him between his arms. 

As much as Boston wanted to relieve the tension by quipping about being back in the closet, and Rich wanted to do the same by asking if they should just kiss, neither moved or said a thing — just stood there, unable to ignore the way their knees were bumping together and their jackets were chafing together, how their breaths met in the middle and how their aftershaves were mixing together in some ungodly, dizzying combination. But even if they didn't do anything about it, both of them wound up thinking the same thing; forgetting all about the case and the files and the FBI and the real reason they were there, and instead, focusing on the way neither really hated this. Whether it meant working together in general, or this very moment right now.

They weren't quite sure who had entered the room or why, but when the door opened and closed once more, they figured that they were alone again, allowing them both to breathe but only to melt even closer in doing so. "Uh, so—", Boston whispered, still cautious in case someone was yet to leave the room, but it didn't really matter, because when he looked over to Rich again and locked eyes with him, he forgot to continue speaking. 

"Yeah", Rich nodded, as if to agree with the nonexistent point Boston had made. He, too, was struggling to believe that they were here right now, and most of all, he was struggling to ignore the voice in his head that was chanting _Kiss! Him! Kiss! Him!_ to the beat of his impossibly quick heart. It would have been so easy to lift on his tiptoes, find balance in Boston's shoulders or his unfairly flawless jawline or that damned tie that continued to match his own suit, but when the man eventually turned around to part the door and make sure the coast was clear, he didn't do any of it. Just cleared his throat and encouraged Boston to step out, which, much to his dismay, he did.

"Should we head out?" Boston proposed with a quiet tone, suddenly all out of sarcasm as he eyed Rich in silent amazement, too busy admiring him to notice that Rich was doing the same.

Smoothing out his crumpled jacket, the other hacker pursed his lips in a casual smile, as if the past minutes hadn't turned his whole world upside down. "We should. We're going to have our hands full back at the lab anyway, so...", he noted with an unusually neutral voice — this rare shyness in him didn't come out often, but when it did, it was almost surely because of Boston. 

And you bet the car drive back wasn't any less quiet as it had been hours ago, but for another reason this time — in the beginning, they hadn't been too sure if they could work with each other without the spark between igniting all over again. Now, they knew for sure they couldn't.

—————

**AFTER CHECKING IN** with Patterson and Reade, _and_ Weller and Jane who had found the time to show up too, the blonde genius of the team had been left in peace to do her thing and skim through the files Boston and Rich had successfully acquired. Of course, mentioning the last part had left them arguing about who had done the most, but as everyone slowly filed out of the lab, the gravity of the past hours was starting to settle in. Maybe it was the nearing midnight getting to Rich, but he was unable to move forward, act as nothing had happened — he had been dropping hints all night, and he knew Boston had picked up on them, and so far, he hadn't been rejected either. But even then, he'd know what the answer was, and he could go home with the knowledge that he had taken a chance, put himself out there and expressed his feelings, for better or worse.

But right now? There was still something to resolve, something hanging in the air, and always one to go after the things he wanted, Rich supposed it wasn't too late for another confrontation.

With a sharp inhale, he pushed the door of the locker room open, and immediately came across Boston undoing his tie in front of his locker, but as soon as the squeak of his shoes disrupted the silence, the man twirled around with wide eyes. Rich, too, had dressed down from the fancy occasion — well, he had abandoned the jacket and his tie, but perhaps his reluctance to let go of the attire signified a reluctance to let go of something else, entirely. And when Boston chuckled and lifted his hand to display the ring he still carried, he guessed he wasn't alone in that.

"Forgot to give this back", he cleared his throat, leaving his tie hanging loosely around his neck as he rolled up his sleeves and shrugged. "I _guess_ tonight could have been worse. You know, working with you, and all", he admitted, surprising Rich with the nearly kind words and making him grin as he took a step closer, suddenly grateful that no one else seemed to be in the locker room.

"Wow, that was _almost_ a compliment", he laughed, and when Boston did the same, eyes crinkled and all, his heart skipped a beat. "I, uh, I didn't hate it either, though. I know I've given you a tough time, because you know, you're kinda stealing my thunder, but—", Rich proceeded with a faltering tone, not the best when it came to apologies or any form of it, but for once, Boston wasn't making fun of him, but rather, taking the blame, instead.

"Oh, yeah, I've done my fair share of that, too. Don't worry. I kinda missed it, actually", he confessed, almost shocked to hear himself say that, making him shake his head as he turned back to his locker and slowly shut the door. 

It wasn't until Rich spoke up again that he finally found the courage to face him. "I missed you", the man breathed, cringing at himself as he only invited more awkward silence into the room with his revelation — well, he thought it was awkward, but in reality, it was that short moment that Boston needed to 1) process what he had said and confirm that his ears hadn't betrayed him and 2) convince himself that someone needed to make the first move, and right now he wasn't interested in waiting for Rich to be the one.

He wasn't sure when the thought had first appeared in his head — maybe when he had gotten the job, maybe when he had seen Rich in that red suit, maybe when he had spoken so softly of him at the fundraiser, maybe when they had been trapped in the closet together — or maybe it had never left, but at last, he acted on it. And man, was Rich relieved, because as soon as he saw Boston flinch towards him, he was reaching out and throwing both hands to cup the man's face while Boston wrapped his arms around his waist and held him as close as possible when their lips finally met. They hadn't even realized how much they had missed it — sure, they had _thought_ they did, but when both of them instinctively closed their eyes and melted into each other's arms, it was nothing like they had imagined. It was far better than memory had served.

Only breaking apart for short breaths before pulling one another into a new series of desperate kisses, they stumbled around the locker room until Rich managed to push Boston against one of the lockers, giving him a whole new angle and balance to work with, his hands traveling up to the tousled, soft hair while Boston shamelessly went for the buttons of his shirt.

And, outside the locker room, in the lab that echoed with Patterson's absent-minded humming, she knowingly pressed a few right buttons to grant the two their long overdue moment. Only when Reade entered the space with a confused look did she look up from her screen, pretending like she hadn't just deliberately sealed the locker room's doors to keep anyone from entering.

"Where's Boston and Rich?"

With a proud chuckle, Patterson offered a shrug to claim she didn't know, yet she couldn't resist a half-serious, "Oh, probably spending their honeymoon somewhere."


End file.
